Help Us Hope - Taz 03.12.19
Dec 17, 2019 17:06:04 GMT
Varis/G'Lorth/Sundilar and Merla, the Daughter of Summer like this
Post by Tazmuck on Dec 17, 2019 17:06:04 GMT
It was chaos. The town was burning. Boulders flew through the air and smashed into the rubble. The sounds of fighting and death rang around the ruins.
And the chaos was beautiful.
Ever since he had left The Avernus, Taz had sense malaise. He had been in combat - against beasts, ghouls, dragon turtles. But until now nothing had matched the excitement of a proper battle, the unpredictability and the danger of being surrounded by combat on all sides. It made your heart beat, filled your head with a cloud of adrenaline, it made you feel alive and strong.
By the time the giant fell and the horn blew, he could barely remember everything he had killed. A couple of goblins? A few ogres? Some trolls? It was all a blur of excitement and axe swinging. Only the end was an anticlimax - he hadn't even managed to get to the fire giant before it had gone down. He was sure he'd been the strongest in the group too, even if Gegrun had managed to land the final blow. The way he'd taken the head clean off that ogre. The way he'd taken a boulder to the chest, but still stood standing on the rooftop looking for danger.
And the strange rift that had opened up. What had been up with that? At least the ground had stopped drinking blood, although the message "the ground is sated" wasn't reassuring either. All this stuff, he thought, would be figured out by someone else. Time to go back to Kantas, relax in the flourished hook (at least he could afford to move out of the Seashank now!).
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Overall though, he hadn't done enough, and he knew that. The town of Zot Goran was lost anyway, owned now by The Shunned. They saved a few of the townspeople, but did nothing for anyone to really remember them by. Since he had come back, he'd heard of what the other mercenaries had done: fighting humongous storm giants controlling the war. Songs would be sung about those guys. That's what he wanted, but it wasn't his time. Not yet, anyway, but maybe soon.
And the chaos was beautiful.
Ever since he had left The Avernus, Taz had sense malaise. He had been in combat - against beasts, ghouls, dragon turtles. But until now nothing had matched the excitement of a proper battle, the unpredictability and the danger of being surrounded by combat on all sides. It made your heart beat, filled your head with a cloud of adrenaline, it made you feel alive and strong.
By the time the giant fell and the horn blew, he could barely remember everything he had killed. A couple of goblins? A few ogres? Some trolls? It was all a blur of excitement and axe swinging. Only the end was an anticlimax - he hadn't even managed to get to the fire giant before it had gone down. He was sure he'd been the strongest in the group too, even if Gegrun had managed to land the final blow. The way he'd taken the head clean off that ogre. The way he'd taken a boulder to the chest, but still stood standing on the rooftop looking for danger.
And the strange rift that had opened up. What had been up with that? At least the ground had stopped drinking blood, although the message "the ground is sated" wasn't reassuring either. All this stuff, he thought, would be figured out by someone else. Time to go back to Kantas, relax in the flourished hook (at least he could afford to move out of the Seashank now!).
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Overall though, he hadn't done enough, and he knew that. The town of Zot Goran was lost anyway, owned now by The Shunned. They saved a few of the townspeople, but did nothing for anyone to really remember them by. Since he had come back, he'd heard of what the other mercenaries had done: fighting humongous storm giants controlling the war. Songs would be sung about those guys. That's what he wanted, but it wasn't his time. Not yet, anyway, but maybe soon.